The servants were busy spreading out a blanket and displaying the food they had brought. Soon Aladdin sat down and Grethel joined him. He remembered the games he and the other orphans used to play and how Kirstyn used to join in, her golden hair glowing in the sun. How pretty she was. He never failed to notice, even as a child. Why had God allowed her to be taken from him, her family, and everyone who loved her? Had she suffered very much? Was she truly gone?
“Aladdin, I . . .” Grethel was leaning close to him.
He hadn’t realized how close she was sitting. The servants were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Had they gone back to town?
“If you ever need to talk to someone, I hope you will come to me.”
Aladdin stared at Grethel. “I don’t want to hurt you, Grethel, because I respect you, and also because of my great respect and affection for Herr Kaufmann. For now, I cannot think of any woman besides Lady Kirstyn. Please understand.”
Grethel sat up straighter, moving away from him. “I hope you do not think I was suggesting anything . . . immoral between us.”
“No, of course not. Forgive me. I did not mean—”
She put her hand on his arm. “I understand. Do you still hold out hope she will be found?” Pity filled her expression.
“I think there’s very little chance of that.” Something inside him did believe she was still alive, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit that to Grethel.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Aladdin, Grethel, and Abu visited Lüneburg Heath every Sunday to get out of the city and enjoy the warm summer sun and the lovely wildness of the heather. They took long walks, at first reminding Aladdin of the walks he and Kirstyn had taken in the Hagenheim forests. But the more they visited the Heath, the less their walks reminded Aladdin of Kirstyn and Hagenheim. After all, the Heath was nothing like Hagenheim’s deep forests and rocky hills and outcroppings. And Grethel, though a lovely, kindhearted maiden, was not Kirstyn.
Near the end of autumn, after a long day of running through the heather with Abu and Abu’s new dog, a shaggy brown-andwhite Wolfspitz named Wolfie, Herr Kaufmann sat down with Aladdin in the main room of the house. They both sipped a drink Hilde had made with cherries and currants and apples in front of the hearth. More and more, Herr Kaufmann required a fire “to ward off the slight chill in the air” that no one else seemed to feel.
“It has been months since Duke Wilhelm was here.” Herr Kaufmann stared at the fire. “What have you heard from the duke? Is there any news?”
Aladdin sighed. “No news. The duke gave up searching for her, and all of his men who were searching have now returned to Hagenheim.” Aladdin did not wish to talk about Kirstyn, but Herr Kaufmann had not asked in weeks. He could not deny the man anything, not after all he had done for Aladdin. He’d suffered financial losses while Aladdin was searching for Kirstyn, and even since then, while Aladdin was too distracted by grief and frustration to do his job well.
“Truly, I am sorry, my boy. I am sorry.”
Aladdin nodded.
“I remember when my Alice died in childbirth. I mourned for a while, but I finally realized that my mourning would not bring her back or make anything better. So I made the decision to live my life—and to concentrate on loving the family I had. I think that was a good decision.”
Aladdin stiffened. Would Herr Kaufmann tell him it was time to stop mourning Kirstyn? That he should forget about her? His stomach churned.
“I poured myself into being a father, and I was glad and content. My son—Little Cedric, we called him—was such a joyful child. We enjoyed each other’s company. He would rather sit next to me than anywhere else. He ran to me when he was injured or when he was proud of himself. I’ve never been happier than in those days—until he turned thirteen years old. Everything changed. Can you believe he was already chasing the young maidens in town, maidens who were two and three years older than he was? He had always been a bit precocious, and my mistake was that I foolishly indulged him.”
Herr Kaufmann shook his head, staring down at the floor.
“When he demanded, I gave in. I started trying to check him when he was fourteen or fifteen, but by then it was too late. He thought he was an adult, smarter than his pathetic old father. He even tried to molest Grethel—can you imagine? She was still only a child, was growing up in our house, and he tried to . . . But I thank God that I caught him in time, before he did any harm to her. After that I never knew where he was. He stole things. He threatened people. He threatened me most of all. It was a terrible time. I pleaded with him to turn from his wicked ways. I promised him things . . . when I should have been stern with him. I was still too lenient with him. I know that now . . . now that it’s too late.
“Two years ago I thought he was reforming. He pretended to want to help me in the business. But he only took the money I gave him and abandoned the goods he was supposed to fetch at the port—those which he did not steal. I was heartbroken, and I was angry. The bitterness was so strong in me, I could taste it on my tongue, believe it or not.” He shook his head. “I had given him everything, tried everything to make him happy, and he betrayed me, his own father. I expected to be sad and bitter for the rest of my days.”
Herr Kaufmann looked up, meeting Aladdin’s gaze. “Then something happened, something I had not expected. And that something was you. I know I’ve said this before, but you restored my faith in people, and you even made me stop hating myself for causing my son’s lack of self-control and integrity. You gave me back the joy I thought I’d lost forever.”
“God is to thank for that,” Aladdin was quick to say. “I am grateful to God for bringing me to you.”
“Yes, yes, it was God. And God will bring someone to you now, to help you in your grief. In fact, I hope you will consider the possibility that . . . God has already brought you that person.”
Aladdin shifted in his seat. “I appreciate your concern for me, but I am well. God has given me you, Abu, everyone in your household, and enough work to fill my time. My heart may be broken, but only God can heal that.”
“Perhaps, but don’t shut yourself away from the love of a woman the way I did. I don’t want to see you make that mistake.”
Aladdin rubbed his cheek. “I’m just not ready for that, but I thank you for caring. And now I believe I will go up to bed. I’m very tired.”
He hurried away before Herr Kaufmann could say anything else. When he reached his room, he closed the door and bent over, gasping at the pain in his chest. It was as if he suddenly saw Kirstyn before him, so innocent and joyful. O God, how could You let those evil men touch her?
He fell to the floor on his knees. Tears dripped from his eyes, and he clenched his fists. He rested his forehead on the Turkish carpet and groaned. “Forgive me, God, for blaming You. But it hurts so much, and I miss her. Kirstyn . . .”
He remembered another time when she had coaxed him into going to the woods to explore. Sir Conrad was waiting to accompany them as they crossed the castle bailey. Kirstyn started skipping, and she glanced over her shoulder at Aladdin. “Come and skip with me!”
Aladdin managed a laugh, his heart tripping at the way her eyes glinted in the sun.
Somehow he couldn’t accept that she was gone. She couldn’t be dead or he would feel it. And yet the fact that Duke Wilhelm believed she was dead and had stopped searching for her . . .
A fresh wave of pain ripped through him and he let himself feel it, more than he ever had before, until it overwhelmed him.
“God, I cannot bear this pain.”
Cast your pain on Me. Let Me bear it.
Aladdin imagined Jesus hanging on the cross, in horrible pain. Yes, Jesus knew about pain and betrayal. Aladdin’s pain might not go away completely, but he could let God carry his pain, this overwhelming sense of the violence that had happened to Kirstyn, how Aladdin had not been there to stop it, the pain of missing her and being told he’d never see her again.
God would bear the pain for him if he
would cast it on Him.
Aladdin lay across his bed and felt a strange sense of peace wash over him.
The air became cooler, and they all went to the Heath for what might be the last outing before it grew too cold to enjoy.
When they reached home, everyone scattered to their separate rooms for the night. While Aladdin was finishing his nightly prayers, his mind went back to when he was about sixteen and Kirstyn had just celebrated her fourteenth birthday.
She was running up the gentle hill toward the woods, throwing her arms out and lifting her face to the sun. He let her get almost to the edge of the trees and then caught up with her. Together they found their walking sticks where they had left them, propped against an oak tree, and moved more slowly through the trees, Sir Conrad not far behind.
Aladdin had stopped at a spot between two beech trees, memories flooding his mind.
“That’s where the bear attacked you,” Kirstyn said.
He glanced back at her and nodded.
“Does your leg pain you anymore?”
He shook his head.
Suddenly she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.
His heart thumped hard. Sir Conrad would no doubt report this back to the duke. He should push her away. Instead, he patted Kirstyn’s shoulder.
He was aware of her hands on his back as she stood perfectly still. No one had ever held him like this. Perhaps if his mother hadn’t died, if he’d stayed in the Holy Land with her, he might have experienced many embraces. But could any of them have been as sweet as this one?
He let his hand rest on her thin shoulder as he stared down at her blonde head, the hair fraying from its braids.
She pulled away from him, and her blue eyes caught his. “You’re my dearest friend, Aladdin. I want you to be happy.”
He opened his mouth, not sure what to say.
“And I want you to know that we will always be close. I won’t ever leave Hagenheim and get married, as Margaretha intends to do. I want to stay here and go on walks with you in the woods.”
Her words stole his breath. She seemed to sense that her presence in his life soothed the ache of not having a family. But she was too innocent still to understand that her parents would never allow them to remain as they were—the closest of friends. And in truth, he wasn’t sure he could be content with that. But it was the fact that she thought of his happiness, perhaps even more than her own, that touched him deeply.
Aladdin took a deep breath to try to dispel the pain the memory conjured up. He grabbed his water pitcher and hurried downstairs to refill it.
All the candles had been extinguished, but when he reached the kitchen, the light from a full moon was shining in through the windows, giving him just enough light to find the fresh water bucket. He filled his pitcher and was turning around to leave when he saw a light flickering in the stairwell.
The light grew brighter, and he heard the sound of soft shoes shuffling on the steps. Grethel appeared carrying a small lantern.
“Aladdin. I thought you had gone to bed.”
“I just came to get some water.”
She approached him, her eyes large and round, a solemn look about her closed lips. Something was definitely on her mind, but she didn’t speak as she stopped a few feet from him.
The silence was uncomfortable, so he asked, “Did you enjoy yourself today? The weather was a little cool. It may be a long time before . . .”
Grethel moved toward him until she and her lantern were so close he could see every curve of her face.
She set her lantern on the trestle table behind him, brushing his sleeve with her arm.
“You were so good at teaching Abu archery today. Is there anything you don’t do perfectly?”
“Many things, I assure you.” Perfect. That’s what Kirstyn had often called him. But inside he felt far from perfect. In the deepest part of him he still felt like that poor, frightened little boy who was bullied by Mustapha into stealing. He was far from perfect now too, and he feared if those he loved discovered that he wasn’t perfect, they would cease to love him—including Kirstyn.
And she’d said he pushed himself. He did, but only because he needed to prove he wasn’t just a poor, unlovable thief. A rat, Mustapha had called him. Those memories brought him so much shame, even now.
“I always have a wonderful time with you, Aladdin. You are so kind to Abu and to my father. And even though I know you will never love me, you are always kind to me.”
He couldn’t help but stare into her eyes. She was so close. And now that the lantern was behind him, the moonlight was shining on her face, lending her such a tender glow. Her eyelids dropped, and she was no longer looking at him.
“I imagined my father would find someone for me to marry. But I know he still hopes you . . . well, that you will marry me. He loves you like a son, and I . . . I have fallen in love with you too.” She raised her eyes, and they seemed to pierce him through.
His heart stuttered. Grethel was a sweet girl. She was not mean-spirited or wrathful or petty. And if he married her, it would greatly please Herr Kaufmann. He could please the one man who had been ready to do anything to help Aladdin achieve what he wanted, even if it meant Herr Kaufmann would not get what he wanted. And wouldn’t Aladdin be ensuring his own success? If he could marry someone who was good and kind and who truly loved him, what more could he ask for? He would surely come to love her, in time. He’d finally have a real family.
Perhaps this was how God intended to take away the awful aching pain of losing Kirstyn. And after so many months of hearing nothing from her, his head told him it was extremely unlikely she was still alive—even if his heart refused to believe it.
They stared into each other’s eyes. He felt himself giving in and accepting that Kirstyn was never coming back. Could he really feel it if she died? Surely that was only wishful thinking. And it made practical sense that he should marry Grethel.
She placed her fingertips against his chin. “Could you ever love me, Aladdin?” she whispered. “Would you take away my pain of feeling unloved and unwanted? Because I believe I could take away your pain. Would you let me love you?”
Aladdin opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. So he put his arms around her and pulled her to his chest, resting his cheek against her hair.
She felt comfortable in his arms, but the ache in his heart grew. Perhaps that was only because he was thinking of Kirstyn now, the last vestiges of hope—hope that she was still alive and could still be his—clinging to his heart, even as Grethel held on to him.
“You should go,” Aladdin croaked, almost pushing her away. “We shall talk more when we’re not tired and . . . Go, now.”
She stood staring at him, as if uncertain.
He reached out and caressed her cheek. “Go.” He picked up her lantern and handed it to her.
With one last look, she hurried away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Kirstyn lay in the bottom of the cart with the tarp over her head and things piled on top of her, but she kept the tarp lifted enough so she could see through the cracks in the wagon’s sides. The sun was high, and they seemed to be traveling over a particularly flat area. Something purple caught her eye. It was all around on the ground, a vibrant color, some kind of flower, which was strange, since it was late autumn and the air was already cooler and hinting of winter.
Kirstyn had stopped speaking when Michael was around. He would never tell her anything, and when he was nearby, neither would Anna. But she wished she knew where they were. What place had such an abundance of purple flowers? It reminded her of Margaretha’s descriptions in her letters of the countryside in England.
She still thought about escaping, but she had failed so many times. Planning her escape was the thing that kept her sane in the long, lonely stretches when Michael would lock her in a basement for twenty-four hours at a time. The hours crept by so slowly she nearly went mad when she had nothing to do except to yearn for ho
me, her family, and Aladdin—and to plan her next escape.
But perhaps it was time to just stay quiet and do what her father had told her to do, which was to wait for him to rescue her. Trying to escape was not working, after all. It only gave Michael an excuse to manipulate Anna’s emotions by telling her, “See how people treat me? Nothing ever goes right for me, so I’m forced to do bad things just to survive. Even my father doesn’t care about me. He gave my inheritance to some Saracen orphan boy.”
A few times lately, Kirstyn had even found herself feeling sorry for Michael, which terrified her and set her to reminding herself how Michael’s behavior must look to the people who cared about her, like her mother and father. Looking through their eyes, Kirstyn was able to get clarity again about Michael’s actions, to see that they truly were evil, to understand that his words revealed a very twisted way of thinking. It even helped Kirstyn stop thinking angry thoughts about her brothers Steffan and Wolfgang. They were just immature boys. She could hardly wait to tell them she forgave them for the way they had always teased her and Margaretha.
Dwelling on the protective way Aladdin had treated her also helped dispel the twistedness of Michael’s words and actions. Aladdin had protected her many times, the greatest of which was when the bear had attacked them. When Aladdin had lain in bed after the attack, she visited him every day. Once, when she saw his leg without the bandage, she got light-headed and had to look away and take deep breaths. But if she ever tried to take the blame for his injuries, he would say, “Do you want me to remind you yet again that you saved my life? You ran toward an enraged bear with only a stick and beat her on the head with it.”
Of course, she would always protest his praise—praise she little deserved. She’d only distracted the bear for a few moments until Sir Ruger arrived. But she could be grateful Aladdin was so gracious and did not hate her.
In less than a week he was getting around with only a walking stick to aid him. Frau Lena was amazed, but she would not let him stand upright for more than a few minutes, lest too much blood flow to his leg wounds. But always Aladdin was smiling and sure that his leg would be as good as ever very soon.